No Regrets
by moonmagik
Summary: Takes place during the first season. Nate's drinking is spiraling out of control and he's on the path to self-destruction. Eliot is having second thoughts about leaving the team that he's grown to care for.


No Regrets

Takes place after The Snow Job. Eliot's thoughts about Nate's drinking and the impact it's having on the rest of the team.

Spoilers: the Snow Job

Eliot slammed his hand down hard on the table, causing Hardison to nearly jump out of his skin. The anger that burned in his blue eyes was directed solely at Nate. More to the point: Nate's drinking. It had been spiraling out of control for some time, and the hitter just couldn't keep quiet any longer. He leaped out of his chair, intent on causing the older man a world of pain. He hadn't been thinking clearly or he would have seen that the man was intentionally baiting him.

The hitter had stood silently by all these months and watched with growing concern the way Nate coveted his liquor like it was precious gold. The binge drinking late at night after everyone had left the office. His secret hiding places, like the bottom shelf of the curio cabinet, that he thought no one knew about. But one of Nate's favorite tricks by far was the way he tried to camouflage it in a soda can in front of a potential client. Sophie had been the one to see through it and called him out on it. But Nate had been in denial and changed the subject. It was a little too close for comfort being put on the spot, but Nate knew deep inside that Sophie had just been concerned about him.

The others had brought it up from time to time, but no one really knew what to do about it. Until Nate admitted his problem and asked for help, their hands were tied. They say the first step is admitting you have a problem, but Nate wanted no part of it. He'd rather drink himself into a stupor and sleep it off wherever he had made his bed for the night. The next day before he even brushed his teeth, he'd have a drink. He needed it to get him going in the morning before breakfast, he needed it to wash down his lunch at noon, and most importantly, he needed it to help him relax before he went to sleep at night.

Sophie had tried to rein Nate in a time or two by trying different tactics. The scolding and concerned friend tactic had been a disaster, and her offering to put his drink away hadn't helped much either. She'd marched straight for the kitchen and dumped the remaining contents down the sink. He'd resented it immensely and told her to stay out of his business. But that's the problem with friends. They can't, or won't stop interfering.

Hardison had never really been around a drunk before and he was having a hard time processing it all. He was unsure what the boundaries were and where the responsibilities lay. So he stuck to what he knew best; computers and World of Warcraft.

Parker was even less helpful than Hardison had tried to be. On certain nights when she knew Nate would be out of it, she'd up and disappear. No word, no phone call, no nothing. Eliot had asked her about it once and she'd told him seeing Nate drunk all the time made her sad. She couldn't look at him the same way when he was so drunk he couldn't even remember his own name. So she left to preserve the memories she had of him when he was sober. Eliot suspected there was more to it, but he didn't press it. She seemed so fragile at the time and he didn't want to hurt her feelings by asking her something she felt uncomfortable answering.

Eliot was the type of person who kept his emotions on a tight leash, never letting them get away from him. When the world around him was in chaos, he was in control. He learned that the hard way one time, after a particularly violent outburst. Luckily no one was killed, and he'd vowed never again to place one person's life above another's. Money be damned. He didn't care how many jobs he had to turn down, he would never deal in human trafficking. His moral compass never wavered, and even though he was by rights a thief, he still had a code of conduct he remained loyal to.

But Nate had nearly broken his self-control one night. After Nate told Sophie to tear up the mark's check for five-hundred thousand, Eliot had confronted him and asked him if he was drunk. The others were in too much shock to say much of anything, but you could see it in their eyes. The wary glances they gave each other later back in the hotel room, the unspoken accusations they were thinking of. Nate soothed their growing dissatisfaction by misdirection. He was very good at leading them where he wanted them to go. It was a tool he'd used many times when he recovered stolen items that had been insured by his former bosses at IYS.

Nate's indifference confused him. He was on a one way trip to Hell but he didn't seem to care. Maybe losing Sam had started it all? Maybe it was his former bosses at IYS? Maybe it was the fact that his marriage disintegrated soon after that? Or, maybe it was a combination of all of the above? Who knows what goes on in someone's mind when they're dealt one blow on top of another?

Sitting in his hotel room and brooding wouldn't have changed anything, but it was better than what he really wanted to do. He was still seething from Nate's remark earlier and he'd honestly wanted to skip his drunken ass across that marble floor. Sophie, ever the peace maker, got between them before Eliot had the chance to make good on his promise. He'd backed down, something he'd never done before. He hadn't realized it at the time, but he'd walked away because he'd seen the pleading look in her eyes. He'd tamped down his anger long enough to walk away. Sophie knew it and she had been grateful for it.

Parker and Hardison had followed him out of the room, a little shell shocked by what had happened. They offered their company for what it was worth, but the hitter hadn't been in the mood for company. He'd needed to be alone for a while to do a little thinking. They left him standing at his door a few minutes later and drifted downstairs to eat.

The next morning it had been business as usual and they'd managed to retrieve all the homes for all four-hundred clients. Nate had been repentant to the others but he hadn't been remorseful. They'd accomplished what they'd set out to do and in Nate's book that was all that mattered. Eliot had decided to let it slide one more time, because quite frankly, the man was a frigging genius. But it stuck in Eliot's craw that Nate had thought himself too good to bow and scrape and offer his apology. Whatever the reasons were for Nate's actions they were never really made very clear.

Eliot wondered for the thousandth time if he should just get out before it all came crashing down around him. A storm was brewing and the hitter knew enough from past experience to get out of the way. Take cover before it consumes you whole. Every man for himself. But the problem with that was the fact that he wasn't alone anymore. He couldn't in good conscious leave his friends behind to pick up the pieces.

He felt like he finally belonged somewhere, and damn it all, he wasn't going to let Nate rip it away from him. It made him angry all over again how close he'd come that night to ripping into the older man. He knew Nate was drunk. He knew he should have just let it go, but the man had intentionally gotten under his skin. But for what reason? What did Nate hope to gain from it all?

Even to this day it bothered Eliot that Nate knew how to push his buttons. Maybe someday when or if Nate decided to give sobriety a try, he'll let Eliot in on the secret.


End file.
